The Family Business?
by Give-Your-Best-Anyway
Summary: Amelia is just your average college sophomore. That is, until two strange men in suits appear on campus asking questions and her father goes missing. Is his disappearance related to the others? Rated M to be safe. Sorry if the summary is terrible. This is my first time writing and publishing a fic about "Supernatural." Please let me know if I should continue!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey, guys. This sort of just popped up in a dream that I had a while ago, and I just had to write it down, albeit more detailed. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Supernatural **_**or its characters.**

_"_

_I never believed in ghosts until I came face to face with one . . ."_

I scoffed at the program my roommate, Rose, turned on in our small dorm room at the University of Texas. Hearing me, Rose turned to face me sheepishly.

"Sorry, Ames. I couldn't resist," her hazel eyes widened, "I mean, what if that is real? I want to be prepared just in case. You believe in Heaven and Hell – why is this so hard for you to believe in, too?"

"Of course I do. I'm Christian. But all of that? His jealous girlfriend back from the dead? Her grandma's spirit living on as if she hadn't died? I don't think so. Besides, even if that could happen, do you really think that mimicking these _actors_, provoking them and disturbing their resting place, would help you _or_ them?" I replied, rolling my eyes.

Rose just shook her head at me and smiled. She and I have been friends for about a year and a half now. We were both freshman in the daunting Intermediate French II class when we struck up a conversation and discussed existential French literature over coffee. She and I look and act differently, but many think we're somehow related.

Rose Matthews has long and straight blonde hair, perfectly shaped and colored hazel eyes, tan skin, and a supermodel skinny figure to die for. She is very quiet and reserved, never speaking out of turn or doing anything that has the potential to rock the boat.

I, Amelia Grace Tennant, am pretty much the opposite. My messy, curly, dirt brown hair is usually pulled back somehow, never just left alone. My eyes are a lighter brown, my skin so pale that no one believes me when I say that I'm Italian. I'm not skinny, but I'm not really fat, although society deems me as such. I'm soft and curvy. Yeah, let's go with that. While I am respectful and polite, I live for sarcasm. I don't party or anything either, but I like having a good time.

Rose and I grew up in very different homes as well. She has a loving mother and father that obsess over their jobs and money, but Rose never reflects that attitude. I have, well, had, two dads that are all about the small-town, homey feel. They adopted me when my birth mother decided that she couldn't take care of me when she had a son of her own.

Dad died a few years ago from cancer. It's just Papa and I now. He lives about twenty minutes from campus, neither of us willing to be too far apart after Dad's passing. Rose couldn't wait to be away from her stuffy parents. I was just hoping to get through school to make something of myself and to make my parents proud.

Monday morning came all too quickly. I stumbled out of bed, hastily pulling on a Metallica tee shirt, jeans, and a zip up hoodie. Rose was already up, perfecting the cat eye liner on her left eye while dressed in a satin blouse and trousers.

"Morning, sunshine!" She smiled brightly at me through the mirror.

I glowered at her as I braided my hair to the side.

"Or . . . not."

"It's too early for this shit, Rosie."

"Amy, 8:30 really isn't that early."

"Whatever you say, Miss I-Wake-Up-Singing-With-the-Animals. Hey, have you heard that Marcy's dad went missing Friday? That's the 4th one in 3 months."

"No, I didn't," Rose answered, concerned, "I hope they find him."

"Don't you think this is weird? All dads of students that go here, all disappear on a Friday, all never seen again?" I frowned.

"It is alarming, yes. I'm sure ours will be fine, though. Hey, don't you have to be somewhere?"

Reluctantly dropping the subject, I looked at the wall clock then her for a brief second. I jumped up, startling Rose, and exclaimed,

"OH FUCK! I have to meet my professor across campus in fifteen minutes!"

I frantically pulled on a pair of combat boots, grabbed my bag, and yelled a goodbye to Rose as I ran out of the room. As I was rounding the corner of the outside of the science building and coming into the main quad, I glanced at my phone to make sure I would make it to my professor's office in time. Not paying attention, I ran into something solid.

I was falling backwards, no doubt going to land on my ass, when a hand grabbed my elbow and steadied me. I looked up and saw this gorgeous guy in a simple black suit with bright green eyes staring into mine. When we made eye contact, he grinned widely and spoke to me in a deep, gravelly voice.

"Hi, I'm Dean."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I forgot to mention that this is set sometime before the end of season one. I haven't exactly figured out the best way to switch between point of views, but unlike the first chapter, this one is in third person rather than first. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Again, no part of **_**Supernatural**_** is mine.**

Dean Winchester woke up to the alarm clock pitifully trying to play whatever song was on the radio station over the predominant static. He groggily rolled over to turn off the alarm and saw his brother, Sam, slouched over at the small plastic table in their decrepit motel room, staring intently at his laptop's screen.

"Sammy, how can you even see that with all of your hair in your face? God, I should start calling you Shaggy."

"It's Sam, and I can see just fine, thanks. Coffee's in the pot," Sam responded without taking his eyes off of the bright screen.

Dean pulled off the covers and stood up onto the shag carpet that seemed to have been in the room since the '70s. He shuddered at the thought of where all of the stains came from. Walking into the kitchen, he grabbed a chipped mug and poured some of the coffee into it. Dean sniffed at it before cautiously bringing the mug to his mouth and taking a sip. His face scrunched up as he spit it back into the mug.

"What the hell kind of black sludge is that? That sure ain't coffee!"

Ignoring Dean's pickiness – although, he hated to admit it, but the coffee was kind of gross and tasted like it had been sitting in the room since before he was born – Sam leaned back and focused on his brother.

"Anyway, I think I've got a case. Over the past few months, fathers of students at the University of Texas have disappeared in the same way. They just vanished, as if they weren't there to begin with. The only sign of struggle is blood by the window, and it's always the victims'."

Dean sat down at the table next to Sam, grabbing the laptop to read the news article himself. His eyes lit up at the prospect of going to a college.

"You know I'm down, kiddo. College girls . . . mmm," his tone grew serious, "will you be okay on the campus? I mean, with Stanford I just –"

"I appreciate your concern, but I'll be fine. Really. Just, let's just focus on the case and not get distracted, okay?"

Dean sighed and agreed. The Winchesters packed up their belongings, changed, and hopped into the Impala heading south towards Texas.

A few hours later, the boys checked into a slightly more decent motel and changed into their FBI suits. Straightening his simple black tie, Dean called out to his brother.

"Hey, Sam. You think these girls will know anything? I mean, they've been at school. None of them were home when their dads disappeared. Why not talk to their wives?"

"True, but maybe they know of anyone who might be mad at them and want revenge. There has to be a connection. I don't know what it could be yet. Their mothers can be interviewed as well. I just thought we should get your perverted old man phase out of the way so we could move on and focus on the case."

Sam smirked as Dean threw a pillow at his head, easily dodging the projectile object. With one last glance in the mirror, Sam followed his brother to the car. Sliding in, Sam looked out the window and rolled his eyes at Dean's choice of mullet rock. He was getting used to hearing nothing but that genre again. He got hooked on newer music when he was with Jess. Sam sighed and looked over the map to direct Dean towards the university.

When they arrived on campus, Sam and Dean headed on into the main quad trying to find a map to locate the dean's office. Dean was looking at the buildings when he felt something run into him. He looked down in time to see a girl start to fall backwards. Reaching out, he grabbed the girls elbow and helped her right herself. She looked up, startled.

Dean was taken away by her glimmering brown eyes and her chocolate brown hair that was pulled into a side braid with pieces framing her face. After a few seconds, Dean gave her one of his winning smiles and said,

"Hi, I'm Dean."

The girl pulled back and smiled politely, returning the greeting.

"Amy. Um, I'm sorry about that. I'm trying to get to my professor before he freaks out on me . . . again."

"No, no. it's my fault. Really. Hey, love the shirt," he remarked as he looked at her Metallica top, "My brother and I have a meeting with the dean, but after that, why don't we go out for a drink and we can talk about your awesome taste in music?"

She looked taken aback for a brief moment, but that was replaced with a defiant look.

"Sorry, uh, Dean, was it? I don't know what kind of girl you think I am, but I don't go out with random men after running into them. Besides, I don't drink. Now if you'll excuse me, I really must be leaving."

As she was starting to run, Dean called after her.

"Wait! Amy! Can't you at least show us where the dean's office is?"

She turned and pointed at the building a few yards away, glanced at her phone, then ran off frantically towards another building. When she got to the door, she turned back around and looked at Dean once more before going inside.

Dean was staring in her direction even after she disappeared from his line of sight. Sam waved his hand in front of his brother's face, bringing him back to reality.

"What the hell, Dean? I thought we agreed you wouldn't prey on girls here."

"Oh, ease up, Sammy. She wasn't interested anyway," Dean replied, looking a little miffed.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Dean walked with his brother in the direction Amy pointed them in and eventually found the dean's spacious office.

"I can give you boys the names of the victims' daughters. I don't know them well, just that they were great members of the community. I can't see any of them having enemies. Sorry I couldn't be of more use," the older gentleman said, reaching into different drawers in a filing cabinet and pulling out four manila folders. He handed them over to Sam and led the brothers to a small sitting area right outside of the office.

"Take all of the notes you need. Just don't leave with their files. You may speak to them when needed as long as it is within normal visiting hours and you are not interrupting classes. I'll be in my office if you need anything."

Sam and Dean nodded in thanks and began to pour over the files, looking for anything that may link the victims or give insight into who, or what, was behind the disappearances. After about half an hour, they handed the files back to the dean and left with a list of the girls' names and where they lived on campus as well as their home addresses and their parents' names.

"It's 1 o'clock. Why don't we grab some lunch and come back to talk to the girls in a couple of hours after most classes finish?" Dean asked.

Sam agreed and began navigating them back to the Impala. Dean couldn't get Amy out of his mind. _I hope I will see her again. Maybe she'll like me if I apologized,_ he thought. Little did he know she was thinking of him, too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Supernatural **_**nor any of the show's elements.**

Mindlessly **s**taring ahead in my psychology class, I didn't notice Professor Williams standing behind my left shoulder. He tapped my shoulder lightly, startling me back to reality.

"Miss Tennant, I'm sure whatever stereotypical young adult crisis is going through your mind can wait until after you work on that sleep chart."

Smiling sheepishly, I hastily apologized and tucked my chin into my neck, trying to shield my tomato-red face from the rest of the class. I heard a couple of people snickering and tried to ignore them, unsuccessfully trying to focus on the average sleep pattern of a human.

I couldn't get that man out of my head. He looked older than me but maybe only by 6 or 7 years. Dean, I think his name was, had something about him that drew me in. I played it off like I didn't care about who he was or what he wanted. That was hard – I don't think he'll ever speak with me again.

Once class ended, I quickly walked up the stairs in the lecture all, trying to avoid my peers and to keep my head high, nose in the air. Just like I always did. So maybe I hid behind the sarcasm. Who cares? It worked, or so I thought. Going through what I did growing up, you learn quickly to harden your exterior. Rose is my best friend, but she doesn't even know that much about my past.

I was bullied a lot for having two dads and no mom. Not to mention my best friend from high school committed suicide in our dorm freshman year. Many of her other friends blamed me, for not noticing something was wrong with her and for not helping her before it was too late. It really got to me. Things have definitely been looking up since then, but I admit that sometimes it gets to be too much. Not that I would say that aloud.

As I was crossing the busy quad, I heard a familiar voice call out my name.

"Amy! Amy!"

Keeping a neutral expression, I turned around and saw Dean and Sam stride towards me. Damn, were they tall! A few girls looked longingly at them. When they noticed that the men were walking to me, they turned to glare at me. I heard their whispers. _Slut. How much does she have to pay them to even look at her?_

Ignoring them and the questioning looks given to me from Sam and Dean, I smiled politely.

"Sorry about earlier. I was running late to a meeting with my professor."

"No, no, it's fine. Really. Nice shirt," Dean grinned. Sam nudged him with his elbow.

"You said that earlier!" Sam exclaimed. Dean looked past my shoulder and gave am embarrassed grin.

Sam turned to me and pulled a badge out of his suit jacket, Dean following suit. Didn't see that one coming.

"Do you mind if we ask you a few questions about the missing fathers?" Sam asked.

"Not sure how much help I'll be, but sure. Let's go sit at that picnic table," I replied, leading them over to one of the few tables on the quad that wasn't wasp or spider-infested. I brushed my hand along the attached bench and sat down across from Sam and Dean. I folded my hands in my lap and waited for them to begin.

"Did you know any of the victims?" Dean asked, going from playboy to professional in 3 seconds flat.

"Uh, no. I know of their daughters. They're all my age. Marcy is in my psychology class."

"That's all you know?"

"I know that they're not the best people to be around."

Sam frowned. "How do you mean?"

_Shit, _I mentally told myself. I started to twist my hands around nervously and looked down into my lap.

"N-nothing. Forget I said anything. Look, I really should be going. Sorry I can't be more useful."

I hurriedly stood up and made to swiftly walk away, but my foot caught on the piece of wood that attached the bench to the table and fell. Sam and Dean quickly got up and went over to try and help me, but I shrugged them off.

"I'm fine, really. Ow. Yeah, okay. That'll leave a mark."

"Um, if you're sure you'll be okay . . . Here's my card if you need anything or think of anything else that may help us with this case," Dean said.

Trying to maintain some of my dignity, I took the business card from Dean, lifted my head high and limped my way back to my dorm. I could feel Sam and Dean's eyes watching me until I was out of sight. By the time I made it back to my room, my ankle felt like it was on fire.

I searched through my important documents to find my new insurance card so I could go to MedExpress or something to get my ankle looked at. I only found and older card.

I called Papa to see if he could run it over from home, but it went to voice mail. Frowning, I called his cell phone. No answer. When I called his work to see if he stayed late, his secretary informed me that he hadn't been there all week.

Admittedly, the last time we talked, we argued a little. I was just sick of him constantly treating me like I was a child. I wanted to transfer to a school in New England, but Papa insisted I stay close to home. I love him and want to make him proud, but I needed to get out of the area.

He and I started yelling, and I eventually hung up on him. That was weeks ago. It was the longest span of time we went without speaking to each other. I didn't think he'd ignore me, but maybe I really did piss him off.

Sighing, I tossed my phone onto my wooden desk and plopped down onto my bed, hissing in pain when my bad ankle bounced off of the hard mattress. I placed one of my pillows under the ankle and situated myself. Five or so minutes into an episode _The Big Bang Theory_, Rose walked in and stared at my elevated leg.

"Oh my gosh, Ames! What happened?"

"Let's just say picnic tables and I don't get along," I grimaced.

After I recounted the day's events involving psych, my shock at finding out Sam and Dean were with the FBI, and my missing father, Rose looked off thoughtfully.

"I hate to say it, but do you think there's a connection between your father and the others?"

"What? No. the only time I interacted with those girls was when they messed with me, and I never spoke to their dads. It doesn't make sense."

Rose looked at me understandingly.

"Amy, I think you should talk to Agents Young and Johnson. This obviously concerns you – even if this isn't related to their case, I'm sure they can still help."

Reluctantly agreeing, I picked up the business card and dialed the number printed in a nondescript style.

"Johnson."

I took a deep breath and quietly answered Dean.

"Hi, it's Amy. Um, I think I could use some help."


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm sorry for how long it has taken me to add more to this – college really ate up my time. Hopefully, I will be able to update more frequently. **

**Once again, I do not own**_** Supernatural**_** or any of its characters.**

"Amy, I thought I told you to stay on campus," Dean exclaimed when he saw the brunette park her MINI Cooper behind the Impala.

After speaking with Amy on the phone, he and Sam went to look for any clues at the Tennant residence.

"Yeah, well, I wasn't about to let some strangers into my house with me being there. Besides, we lost the spare key and haven't gotten around to replace it," she retorted.

Amy strode up the four steps to the front porch, deftly pushed the Winchesters out of the way, and unlocked the front door. She stepped aside to let the boys into the plain entryway and placed her keys in the bowl on the kitchen counter.

"Nice place you got here. Love the pictures," Dean smirked as he looked around at the numerous pictures of Amy and her dads throughout the years, his roaming eyes stopping at a senior photo of Amy.

She protested getting those taken, but her parents insisted. Amy didn't think she was photogenic and was more than happy to be the one _holding_ the camera. The one Dean spotted wasn't her least favorite – in it, she was wearing all black except for her favorite leather jacket. The photographer used a filter to make the image look older. She was leaning against the railing of this cement walkway by the water, with the city behind her. She's not smiling, but her eyes were full of expression.

"Thanks. I only got them taken for my parents. They're the sentimental ones," Amy responded.

"So, you said you haven't spoken to your dad in a while? Does anything look out of place?" Sam asked, trying to stay focused.

"Um, I haven't been upstairs yet, but so far, everything looks normal."

Amy headed upstairs with Dean and Sam trailing behind her. She made a left at the landing towards Papa's room. She let the boys in, noting how they scanned the room quickly while making a beeline to the window. She paled when she saw blood on the frame.

"Is… is that Pops' blood?"

Dean looked up and saw how nauseated Amy seemed to be. He walked over to her and guided her to the door.

"Why don't you wait downstairs? We won't be long, and we _probably_ won't go into your room."

Amy saw that Dean was trying to lighten the mood, so she cracked what she hoped was a convincing smile. The two locked eyes for what seemed to be minutes.

Starting to feel awkward, Amy backed up and looked away.

"Thanks, but uh, I got it from here. Just yell if you need me."

She went back downstairs and sat on the sofa, still feeling sick at the sight of the blood and from her increasing worry. Sam and Dean found her there with her head in her hands. Sam crouched down in front of her to ask if she needed anything. After running a hand over her face, she looked up at the two and declined.

"So, do you know what's going on? Is this connected to the other disappearances?"

Dean hesitated but decided to answer.

"Well, this is connected to the others. What we don't know is why whatever is doing this is doing this."

"What do you mean, 'whatever'?" Amy narrowed her eyes.

"I meant 'whoever,' obviously. Just a slip up…" Dean tried to cover up his mistake.

"Freudian slip, much?" she scoffed in reply, "Oh, gosh. Are you _X-Files _wannabes or something? How does the FBI put up with that?"

"Look, the truth is out there. Ha ha," Dean said, uneasily.

"Amy, you don't want to know. This may not be anything . . . er, not in our department, anyway," Sam tried to say.

Looking suspiciously at the two, Amy sighed and stood up from the sofa, trying to make herself taller.

"Okay, here's what's going to happen. We're going to drop my car off on campus, then we are going to talk about this. No sugar coating. I'll listen. I can handle it."

The brothers glanced at each other, having some sort of silent conversation.

"Fine, but you can't tell anyone, and you can't freak out or something," Dean sighed, shrugging at Sam, who clearly didn't agree with that idea.

Amy smiled and turned on her heels, grabbing the keys and locking the door. She extended her arm to the boys to let them go first. She shut off the hallway light and closed the door behind her.

* * *

The sun began to set by the time the group made it back to the university. They went to sit in a secluded area of the quad closest to Amy's dorm. She would have been fine just sitting on the ground, but she didn't want to ruin their suits. So, she sat in a lawn chair and gestured for the brothers to follow suit. Once they were all settled in, Amy looked at them expectantly. Sam bit his lip.

"Okay, where should we begin?"

"From the beginning is preferred. Don't skimp out on the details."

Taking a deep breath, Dean started to talk about things that go bump in the night, meticulously keeping details about their mom or Sam's girlfriend out of the story. Amy listened with rapt attention. If she thought they were batshit crazy, she didn't let it on while the brothers spoke. Once they finished, there was absolute silence.

"What the _hell_ is wrong with you people? None of that is possible. There's always a logical reason," Amy exclaimed.

"Yeah, sweetheart, it is logical even if it doesn't seem to be so right now," Dean stated, "Look, I know this is hard to grasp, but we don't think something natural took your father and the others. We had a lead from a couple of towns over come up on the way back here. I'm sorry we don't have time to let you ask questions, but you just got to trust us on this. We got to follow up on this if we want any chance of saving your dad. We'll keep in touch."

Amy stood up as the Winchesters did, but not merely out of politeness. She got in Dean's face.

"I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not. That's ridiculous to even ask."

"Well, it's a damn good thing I didn't ask."

"Guys, GUYS. Let's all just chill out for a second, okay?" Sam interrupted, "Amy, this could be dangerous. Besides, we wouldn't want you to miss class."

Amy took a step back from Dean and tried to sooth her anger.

"I understand that. It could also be nothing. If it is something, I have to be there to help my father. After the way I acted the last time I saw him . . . I just can't leave him like that again. Plus, we're on break for a week. Please, Sam, let me come with you. I won't be in the way. Please," she pleaded.

The brothers exchanged another look and acquiesced. Amy allowed herself to look relieved. She started to head towards her dorm but stopped and turned back to where the boys were still standing. She linked arms with them and pulled them with her, not fully trusting them to wait for her to pack a bag.

When they entered her room, Dean glanced around appreciatively at Amy's collection of CDs, DVDs, and posters. He noticed how her roommate's side of the dorm was pristine and looked like it came straight from _HGTV Magazine_. No sooner had they entered did Rose, her roommate, walk in wearing her bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her hair. She froze in the doorway as Sam and Dean awkwardly looked away.

"Amelia Grace! Why didn't you tell me you were having people over?!" Rose whisper-yelled into Amy's ear. She quickly grabbed a change of clothes and excused herself. 5 minutes later, she came back to see Amy packing up a duffle and the two strangers still sitting there.

"Uh, Rose, these are my dad's friend's sons. The tall one is Sam, the other's Dean. Sam, Dean, this is my wonderful roommate, Rose," Amy introduced.

Rose stuck out her dainty hand to give the boys handshakes, her Alex and Ani bracelets dangling and reflecting the light in the room.

"Are you leaving? You normally tell me ahead of time . . ." Rose questioned.

"Yes, our father requested that Amy joined us for fall break, what with Thanksgiving this week and all. With her parents gone and all, we didn't want her to be alone," Dean answered for Amy.

"Pops is _not_ gone! He's just… missing. But that means nothing. He'll be home soon." Rose retorted heatedly.

"We know," Sam soothed, "We really should get going as soon as you're done packing, though."

Amy sighed and put the last of her necessary belongings in her bag, zipped it up, and slung the strap across her shoulders. She grabbed her purse and went to give Rose a hug.

"I'll see you after break, Rosie."

"Be careful! Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Well that definitely narrows down my list," Amy laughed.

Dean opened the door and nodded in goodbye to Rose, Sam following suit. Amy gave one last wave and shut the door. She followed the boys out to the classic car and placed her duffle in the trunk beside Sam and Dean's things. She ran her hand along the side of the car and whistled.

"I gotta say, she sure is a beauty. Dad would've loved to see her," Amy remarked quietly.

"She's my baby," Dean proudly said, then became serious, "no bodily fluids on the upholstery, _capiche_?"

Chuckling and nodding her head, Amy got in the backseat, smiling in appreciation as a Led Zeppelin song blared through the car's speakers. Amy locked eyes with Dean through the rearview mirror. He smiled at her reassuringly. Amy sat back and leaned her head against the cool window, fighting to keep her eyes open. Shortly after, she fell asleep to the familiar music and the gentle roaring of the Impala.


End file.
